Harlot
by The Scrybe
Summary: Bellatrix Black is a known lunatic. But why?


Title: Harlot

Author: The Scrybe

Rating: M

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairings: Severus/Bellatrix, Voldermort/Bellatrix, Various mentions of others.

Summary: Bellatrix Black is a known psychopath. But why?

Warnings: Mention of rape, torture, and abuse.

Chapter One:

She sat alone in her bed, looking up the ceiling of her canopy, contemplating her transition to seventeen. Her birthday had been like the rest. Her sisters showered her with tips and makeup, her family gathering for her party, her cousins wishing her their best. She was showered with gifts that she would never use, and soon after the candles were blown out, everyone left the function to get on with things they assumed were better, and she came to her room, to lie still and contemplate her day.

One thing she did know was that her seventeenth birthday marked the day she'd be betrothed. She didn't know who her husband would be, or how he would treat her, but she wished he could be someone to love. Her father came that night, at exactly eleven thirty, climbing into her bed, and kissing her forehead. He apologized for what he had to do, but he would somehow make it up to her. With a flick of his wand, her things were gathered in the middle of the floor, and with another, minimized and into his pocket. He turned his back while she dressed, silent tears falling down his face. He held his hand out to her as they apparated, and held it tighter as they traveled, whispering sweet apologizes. They sank down onto solid ground, and with self control she never knew he had, he lead her to the Dark Lord, and he let go of her hand. With a wave, he apparated. Voldermort was an evil sight, and at first try she tried to flee, to get away, but a man standing in his ranks held her closely by her waist.

"Your father is a smart man, Bellatrix. He owes me a great debt, and like his word, he has delivered it. Your betrothed is by your side my dear Bellatrix, but like all my servants' brides, I shall have you first. Lestrange, lead her to my chambers, and wait until I arrive."

Bellatrix was smart enough to know not to scream, not then anyway, not when the eyes of all of his followers stayed on her, watching as she was lead away. She knew not to fight the man that lead her to her funeral, she had heard of the things he did. And when she sat silently on the bed when Voldermort entered, she knew not to flinch back in terror, or cry for mercy, the sick monster would enjoy that, and Bellatrix would never surrender her pride willingly.

"Lestrange, you may leave. And do tell Severus to join me later, quickly please."

Bellatrix noticed every stress on the serpent's tongue, eery way his beady eyes bore into her, she was terrified.

"Why have I been brought here?"

"Brave I see, to address me in that manner. You will pay for that later. But for now I shall allow it. Your father had to choose my dear child, between just you, or his entire family. Your sister shows no mercy to Lucius, and she repeatedly disobeys my orders. But you, you will do nicely. May I call you Bella?"

"Do I have a choice?"

His laugh tainted her ears.

"Of course not. But I was trying to give you the remainder of your free will. Because tonight and from now on, you belong to me."

Her head hung low, and when it did so, Voldermort claimed her hair and yanked it back. He stared into her eyes, breaking down the barriers of her mind. Through icy blue eyes he stared into her soul, claiming her secrets for his own. When he was finished, and the mental violation commended, he threw her onto the bed, his hands waving away pieces of her clothing as he went. When she went to cover herself, she was met with binds so tight they bled, and when she chose to fight she felt his cold flesh against her warm, pounding into her, forcing her to stop. And just as it began, it ended. His voice was like a beacon calling, like liquid silk. Smooth yet still not quite matured.

"Ah Severus, I see you have come. My little genius, a branding is in order tonight. Have you the utensil?"

"Yes My Lord."

"Very well. I want her branded in a different place. Her inner thigh, left side. I'll leave you to it."

His name was Severus. He came to her in swift confidence and emergency. He dipped his creation in elixir and went to print it into her thigh.

"If you break easily, he will only hurt you more. I suggest you stop your crying."

"I've done nothing to deserve this. Nothing!"

"You are right. But don't give him reason to inflict things you don't deserve."

The burning was searing hot as he branded her skin. She bit her lip until it bled, not giving the man the satisfaction of knowing her pain. He left just as quickly, without a second glance, and before she knew it, Voldermort was back.

"Child, you have strong will. I like that. I think your soon to be will appreciate it as well. Do you still have your maiden head child?"

She spit in his face.

"Crucio."

The pain was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, burning every nerve ending she owned, tearing at her skin and boiling her blood. She bit down on her tongue as the pain only got more intense, until finally, the screaming commenced. She screamed her lungs sore, her throat burning with hoarseness. It was then he removed his curse, and settled atop of her.

"We shall find out the hard way."

He pushed inside of her with one thrust, a new pain claimed the young girl, his touch, like ice, froze everything inside of her, and with each new thrust, he shattered the ice, breaking her. She lay there, as he pounded mercilessly into her, her arms burned from their binding her tears staining her cheeks. She stayed that way, until he finished, trying her best to phase out the pain, biting her lip so that she wouldn't scream. She thought is was over when he pulled away. But it was then he let his men have their turn with her, each adding on to the pile of filth. She began to scream then. An ear curdling scream, loud and never ending. She thought that was the night she lost her mind. It was the night she lost her innocence.

Bellatrix hated killing. She was taught to torture, so her sick displays of madness would befall the muggles that were brought to the revels. She loved to seem them writhe under her wand, gasping for air by her hands. She loved to see their pain rival her own. But with a flick of her wrist, she only held them off long enough to pass to the next, so that she would not have to kill them, so that she would not take the last breath stolen from their lungs.

That was the last time she'd be able to do such a thing. Aurors flooded into the hall, snatching as many of them as they could. She was amongst them, along with her perverted husband. They were sent to Azkaban, and locked away. The walls of paper thin would greet her with screams of those touched and kissed by dementors, those who go mad from the pain they inflicted on others. The first night their, Bella screamed herself sore, and fell asleep sobbing into the flat floor.

It lasted for fifteen years. Every night would be worse than the night before. Bella never knew when her screams replaced her speech, but when she tried to talk, nothing but shouts and squalls, yells and shrieks would tumble out of her mouth. And soon. It was over. She smelled the fresh air, she held the hand of the boy she met so many years ago. Severus. The man with the silk voice. He lead her away, by the hand, never once shielding his ears to her screams. She didn't know it was real until she fell before the dark lord.

A/N: Ah, since I am having such good reviews from Velvet Truths and Wool Misconceptions, I thought I'd release a second story. Don't worry, my constant updating will continue to be on time.


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